


Sticks and Stones

by exbex



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Conflict, Friendship, Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 09:14:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10682262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exbex/pseuds/exbex
Summary: Disappointment is a familiar companion to Derek. But for as often as Dex has irritated him, he’s never disappointed him, not until he’s said those words. Because Dex is smarter than that. Dex is not so naïve as to believe it. Because for all their differences, Derek and Dex are alike.





	Sticks and Stones

“I don’t expect you to understand.”

The words roll around in Derek’s mind, assert themselves at seemingly random intervals in the day, are waiting for Derek whenever he wakes up.

They are not the worst words that Derek has ever had spoken to him, but context is everything, and they drag along Derek’s mind like sandpaper on skin. Because they came from Dex.

Disappointment is a familiar companion to Derek. But for as often as Dex has irritated him, he’s never disappointed him, not until he’s said those words. Because Dex is smarter than that. Dex is not so naïve as to believe it. Because for all their differences, Derek and Dex are alike.

Derek is not so naïve, either, not so naïve to think that he can understand what it is to live in poverty, what it’s like to have to work so physically hard that mind and body both are bone-wearingly exhausted, to have to worry about every single thing that is affected by the trickle-down effects of not having enough money. 

Yes, context is everything, and in this context, if Dex throws the word ‘spoiled’ at him, Derek can’t say he’s offended, not with any sense of veracity.

If this last sentence that Derek remembers Dex saying to him had occurred as a result of Derek staring blankly as Dex and Chowder talked about their comp sci homework, or accompanied with an eyeroll if Derek had said “yo Dex, it’s chill, I get it,” when Dex had said he didn’t have enough money that week to go to a movie, then Derek could have brushed it off.

But context is everything. And they’d been sitting outside on a chilly night, and Derek had prodded the words out of a morose Dex, in an effort to listen, and Dex had opened up enough to admit that he spent a lot of time feeling like he just didn’t fit in.   
Derek wonders if he hesitated for just a beat too long then, wonders if he had said something sooner, if he’d opened up enough, if maybe he could’ve chipped away at some of the barriers between them. But Dex had managed to erect an entire brick wall with just a few words. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

And if that wasn’t bullshit, then Derek didn’t know what was. Because yeah, there were a lot of things that Derek wouldn’t be able to understand about where Dex came from, but he could definitely understand about not fitting in, in ways that Dex could have no concept of, in ways that society liked to remind Derek of every damn day of his life.

Derek had stewed about it, long enough that, when he got to his feet, the stiffness in his shoulders made it impossible to walk casually away. Not that it probably mattered at all.

**

He finds Ransom at the kitchen table of the Haus, forehead resting against a closed laptop, eyes closed, breathing evenly. It’s what Holster calls “post Coral Reef” mode. It means that it’s safe to slide into a chair across from him and chill. 

Ransom is-the safest person to be around right now. Lardo would be neck and neck with him, but she’s nowhere to be found. It’s not that Nursey likes his other teammates any less, but Ransom and Lardo have the keenest grasp on the understanding of the proverb, “Silence is golden.”

Ransom shifts his neck so that one side of his face is pressed into his laptop. When he sees that it’s Derek, he gives a half smile. It might be one of understanding, it might just be one of acknowledgment. Either way, it’s good. 

Derek is nearly startled when Rans sits up and slides his chair back, the only noise besides the sound of LAX bros across the street. 

“Annie’s,” he says simply, and Derek wonders if he missed something, like a look in Ransom’s eyes that stated ‘I am the captain and I know what you need right now.’

Maybe at some point, between the walk and the moment Derek will slide his fingers around the handle of a mug, he’ll find the words and the will to say what’s on his mind. Or maybe he won’t, and that might be for the best. They’re all really great, his teammates, but they’re all so different from each other. It’s something that makes them better as a team, as friends, but also something that reminds Derek, constantly, of just how alone he really is.

 _Stop,_ he tells himself, right before he slips on a patch of ice and Rans has to catch him.

**

“Is it bad? To just want to make money?”

“Med school is hella expensive.” Derek isn’t sure if it’s a helpful response. He doesn’t actually know the answer to that question, at least not a firm yes or no, or where the answer lies on the spectrum between the two, but Ransom isn’t speaking in hypotheticals or rhetoricals either.

“Yeah, exactly. And if I can make some money for a while, if I do end up going to med school, my parents won’t have to cover it, at least not as much. And then if I don’t become a doctor, well, at least they won’t be shouldering that burden. You totally get it bro.”

Derek blinks. _Not really_ , he thinks as he takes a sip from his mug. But Ransom seems to feel more relaxed, his shoulders loosened and his expression happier. 

“Do you think Holster gets it?” And Derek suddenly wonders why his coffee doesn’t taste like feet, because really, the question is the opposite of sensitive.

Rans doesn’t seem bothered though. He shrugs. “No, not entirely. But he’s my best friend, y’know?”

“I guess.” He must not look convinced, because Rans continues.

“He means well.”

“Is that enough?” Maybe he shouldn’t press, but he’s tired and it’s a problem that needs unpacking.

“Sometimes it has to be.”

Derek looks down into his mug, flicks his wrist and swirls it a bit. When he drinks the last of it, he makes a face at how lukewarm it’s become. “I have to go,” he states as he sets the mug down on the table. “Thanks Rans.”

Ransom gives him an easy smile. “Anytime.”

As he walks back to his dorm, Derek wonders if he shouldn’t have had chamomile tea or something instead. The coffee and conversation have left him keyed up, or maybe Ransom’s words have stirred up something that would have been easier if left buried. It’s not even that   
Ransom and Holster have something enviable. It’s that they’re working so hard to hold onto it, and it could be impossible to maintain under the weight of differences that shouldn’t matter. 

_But you’re not really talking about Rans and Holster._ Derek buttons his coat up all the way, as if by blocking out the cold air he can ignore the truth as well.


End file.
